H-1B Visa
Themes in this story: Overcoming trauma, choosing social work, initiating the conversation about sponsorship, returning to Vietnam, building a support system, redefining success and self-worth
I lost my mother in a house fire in Vietnam that also left me with severe burns. My father brought me and my four younger siblings to the U.S. for treatment and raised us on his own until he also passed away when I was a senior in high school. Most 18-year-olds know a little bit about the world, but we grew up so focused on surviving, spending so much time in hospitals, we had no idea what it was like. So it was a huge leap for me when I started college. I had to adapt quickly. Thankfully, I developed a strong support system. I knew I wanted to work with other trauma survivors, to be part of the support systems that could help them overcome all the challenges they faced. That’s how I found my way to studying social work. In 2014 I became the first in my family to graduate from college.
After I got my master’s in social work, I spent a few years coordinating social services for low income families. I liked the work but I wanted to focus more directly on healing. When the pandemic hit, something shifted in me. I remember wondering, What am I going to do with my life that is really meaningful? I decided to start a business dedicated to supporting the immigrant community, especially trauma survivors.
I started my business as a wellness coach until I got my social work license and then I switched to working as a therapist. It was very difficult because at the time, I didn’t know anyone who’d started a small business. I just had to learn as I went. I made tons of mistakes early on and I spent a lot of time fighting with imposter syndrome. I didn't notice this until recently, but that imposter syndrome feeling has finally gone away.
A lawyer I’d been consulting with for a while told me about the newly streamlined D3 process implemented by the Biden administration. I wasn't even aware of it, which is unusual for me because I'm hyper vigilant about immigration news. She suggested I reach out to Path2Papers to see if it could open up any new possibilities for me.
I got connected to Krsna Avila, a Path2Papers attorney. The name sounded familiar so I looked back in my records. It turns out that we had worked together on one of my DACA renewals. It gave me a sense of relief to know the person looking at my case was someone I could trust. Growing up I’d had really negative experiences working with lawyers. Working with Krsna made me feel like even if nothing came from the screening, at least I had an ally in the legal space. We did the screening and I found out I was eligible for an H-1B.
It wasn't so hard, but I was very anxious because I’d never told my employer that I was undocumented. The first thing I did was set up a meeting with my manager. I told her about my situation and it turned out that she didn't know anything about DACA, so I had to provide some background. Ultimately, it was a really awesome conversation and an opportunity to offer some psycho-educational information to her about how status affects mental health. She was very receptive and attentive. We’d always had a good rapport in that way.
After that, she had no problem asking the leadership team about sponsoring me. I think everyone in my department already knew my name by then, and they knew at least a little of my background from the job interview, so that made it easier to make such a big request. Pretty soon my manager got back to me and said they would sponsor me.
Honestly, I never thought the opportunity to apply for a work visa would be available to me. The H-1B route was never discussed in my community and I was just focused on keeping my DACA up to date while hoping that one day the DREAM Act would pass.
Even though I didn’t pursue this field with a visa in mind, I have always tried to set myself up for success by working hard and building genuine connections with people. I also chose to be a part of a major pilot program at my institution, which makes my role hard to replace. I'm thankful that I'm at an institution that acknowledges my unique contributions and is willing to support me in this endeavor.
There is a designated HR person in charge of my profile so I email them periodically because I know I cannot rely on anyone else to be on top of my paperwork. Recently I requested a meeting with my employer’s lawyer. We checked in about what the next steps are, and she gave me a rough timeline. Now I just need to talk to Path2Papers about the D3 waiver, to decide how safe it is for me to leave the country before I take the step to actually go.
It's hard to think of going back to Vietnam now that both of my parents have died. I have uncles and aunts over there, but speaking Vietnamese with them is really challenging. Even though I speak it the most fluently of all my siblings, I feel inadequate because I make mistakes. So I started learning Vietnamese again just to make sure that if and when I go back I can communicate well.
I know I have to give myself grace because my brain can only do so much. When I was younger, I had to focus on learning English in order to survive and take care of myself and my family. I've learned not to shame myself for those things. Sometimes your brain just taps out, especially when it's tied to the death of someone you love.
Having conversations with other undocumented folks has been really affirming. What they are saying, which I really needed to hear, is that no matter the outcome, we've been here before. And no matter where we live, no matter whether we get the things we want or not, the strength within us is never going to go away. We can build a life worth living anywhere on this earth.
Because of my trauma, I don’t have a lot of pleasant memories of Vietnam, but I know that if something happens and I get stuck there, I can find a way to make it work. I can teach English if I have to. I know I can thrive anywhere I need to. In my twenties, I was clinging to a one-dimensional idea of what it means to belong somewhere. But now that I’m in my thirties, I believe belonging is whatever I choose to make it. It’s knowing that wherever I go, I’ll be okay.
A lot of immigrants, we carry the weight of trying to constantly make our parents and ancestors proud. We feel like we have to work really hard and be as close to perfect as possible. But it reduces my anxiety when I remove some of that rigidity and try to simply exist in my joy, exist in my worry, and in my sadness too. It helps me to be present in my own life, even when it aches.
Allyship is so important. A process like this brings a lot of uncertainty, but it’s nothing that you can’t handle as long as you have people who support you. There are so many simple things that my friends have done to support me like let me lay on their couch while they soothe me and touch my hair, give me hugs, drop me a $5 Venmo for coffee. Those small gestures mean so much to me.
I’ve also found that breaking the process into smaller, more manageable pieces can make a big difference. Whenever I get overwhelmed, I remind myself to pause, and just to focus on one piece at a time.
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